The Chosen's Past
by Varbos
Summary: We all know the Chosen Undead's journey trough Lordran. But who was he before that? Where did he come from? Why did he make the choice he did? This is what this story tells of.


I stand squaring off with the balder knight in front of me. He wore the armor customary of his people, the visor down concealing his face. In his right hand he wielded a side sword, in his left a side shield. Quick as a bolt of lightning flashing through the sky, his sword swung towards me. Even faster my heater shield placed itself between me and the sharp piece of steel. Suddenly my sword was at his throat.

He lifted his visor to show his face. "Not bad for a young village veteran, but I believe the agreement was two out of three." He had thin, light brown hair and greyish blue eyes and his skin had a slight tan to it.

"You are correct." I replied. With that he lowered his visor and we squared off once more.

His sword was a blur as it thrust for my chest. With an almost lazy movement of my forearm I knock his blow to the side and tap him thrice on the breastplate above the heart. "Wait for your enemy to come to you. Strike them when they are most vulnerable, use their attack against them. When they strike, many forget to defend, use this against them."

As I finish my lecture we both sheaths our blades, puts our shields on our backs, and he flicks his visor up. He then produces a bag of coins and tosses it to me underhand. His group of five traveling companions walk towards us.

"I told you, the astorans are uncanny with strait swords that is how they beat the duel-wielding knights of Carim in the war." Said the oldest, a gray haired man with a dark tan and muscular form.

A girl jogs up towards us. She had blond hair and fair skin. As she nears me I throw my leather coated arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to my side. She only stands about mid-chest on me.

"So I assume this is the lucky young lass who has claimed your heart." Said the older one with a smile on his face, inclining his head to her.

"Ay, her name is Catrain." I reply with a smile on my face looking at her.

"Tis a pleasure to meet you, my lady Catrain of Astora" he said with a slight bow and a humored smile on his face "I am Sir Althos Knight of Balder"

At this Catrain giggles and replies with a small curtsy "The pleasure is mine Sir Althos, and please only Catrain, for I am no noblewoman."

"Nay but you appear fit to be a lord's wife."

"I do hope you aren't getting any bad Ideas, or the grave keeper will be burying six balder knights" I say jokingly and the eight of us laugh.

"Hahaha nice one, and you needn't be worried, if you don't kill me my wife will. And speaking of killing, if you don't mind me asking, where did you learn to fight like that? Most trained nobles aren't that good!"

"Swordsmanship is in my family, me and my siblings were taught by our father. One day I will teach my children. When I fought in the Carim War it honed my skills to the point they are today. Anyhow where are you headed? I'm guessing the tournament in Alicubi"

"Ay, and you should come. Those coins there will be plenty for the trip. Needless to say you'd probably earn much more." Suggested Althos.

"Sorry I can't, nobles only. After all you have to make the earls and barons feel good about themselves somehow."

"Ay, I suppose you do." He said with a chuckle "Anyhow, do you know any good inns in this village? Night won't be far off and I prefer beds to stones." And indeed they were in a village square, though the crowd had dispersed soon after the duel.

"I believe The Honeyed Mead House has some rooms, and good mead of course. It is just down the street, third left, fifth building on the right, sign outside hanging over the door. You can't miss it."

"Thanks, excuse us but we must be off. We have been traveling for some time now and are thoroughly exhausted. Perhaps we shall meet again."

"Farewell" I say, and with that we parted ways.

* * *

It has been two days since the duel with the balder knight. They are probably halfway to Alicubi by now. They aren't the first I have done friendly duels with for side money, probably not the last. Or so I would have thought.

"BANDITS, BANDITS ARE RAIDING!" yelled a villager at the top of their voice. I had been sitting in my house enjoying a peaceful afternoon. Now I jump up grab my sword and shield from their place on the chest at the foot of my bed. I don't have time to don my armor so I just rush out.

The battle was frantic, with the village's men and a small number of trained women fighters. Of which Catrain was not, though I intended to teach her some basic sword technique starting next week since we have both been busy this week.

The bandits weren't very skilled, but they had numbers and I was often struggling in two against one and occasionally three against one fights. Many times I had some close scrapes. I wince inward as block a blow with my already bruised shield arm. Note to self: giant maces bruise shield arms like nothing else.

I parry a halberd with my shield and a short sword with my blade. Then I see something off to my side. Catrain was face to face with a spear wielding bandit. His arm went back to deliver a killing blow, his face plastered with a sadistic grin. I couldn't move quick enough to stop or deflect the blow from here. I know what I had to do.

Tucking and rolling I place myself in the path of the spear. It missed everything vital but I would die soon. "Catrain… run." I say weakly. "You … you're coming with me." I slide up the spear my senses dulled from pain. And proceed to slit open his throat. As my vision fades my last thought are of Catrain. _I hope she lives a long happy life. _With that I die, the first time I might add.

I awake at the bonfire fueled by undead bones overlooking the village. A bandit nearby jumps in fear at my sudden appearance. Faster than an eye can blink my sword finds his heart and his humanity restores my mine. I proceed to rejoin the fight striking from behind.

Hours later once the battle has ended and the remaining bandits had fled, I announced my plan to the village. For now I knew I couldn't stay forever. "I will pack my things and set everything in order for my departure. Afterward you won't have to see or hear from me again. All I ask is that you keep my fate quiet until then."

From In the crowd a large, muscular man with an untrimmed beard, the village blacksmith, piped up. "Stay as long as you need, however we cannot protect you from the clerics. I hope you understand that."

"Of course, thank you, I understand that the cleric knights aren't the nicest folk, are they?" I say with great relief. I was afraid that I might have to make a run for it that very moment, but it seems that the family nature of the small village gave me some protection. Unless of course the clerics decided to lay siege to it.

"When do we plan to leave?" said a voice behind me, it was Catrain.

"We?" I ask

"Of course, I'm coming with you if I have to track you all the way to Berenike." She answered. Realizing that it would be futile to argue, I just nod. Besides I had been hoping she would join, it would make eternal exile much easier to bare.

* * *

I step out of my house in full hardened leather armor, my sword at my side and my shield on my back. And I begin the trek to a small clearing where I regularly practice my swordsmanship when seven figures gallop into town, six wore the armor of cleric knights of the way of white the seventh in crude armor. I recognized him, one of the bandits that had fled the battle!

"There, he's the one. He's the filthy undead monster there!" He yelled to his companions. The steeds encircle me and come to a stop from which the clerics dismount. Somewhere Catrain screams.

"Let him go please." She screeches, "He has done nothing, he is planning to leave tomorrow." She tries to run into their midst when the blacksmith grabs her. They can't help me, we all knew what happened to villages who anger the Church of Thorolund.

One on One I could probably best a cleric, even with their miracles. Six on one I doubt I could win even, without miracles. A cleric throws a lloyd's talisman at me. It doesn't matter, I don't have an estus flask. However it shows that the clerics won't except surrender. The one to my left uses Wrath of the Gods. This knocks me towards the cleric on my right, who knocks me to the side with his shield. The next cleric smashes me with his morning star. I spend what must have been five minutes like this before I fall unconscious.

I awake going up a hall in an old, rundown stone building. I awake in the Northern Undead Asylum.

"Awake eh, then get up and start walking." A cleric barks at me. We continue down the winding path for a while. As we round yet another turn we are ambushed by two hollows.

I steal my longsword from the cleric next to me. Cutting the bonds on my wrists with a spinning motion of my weapon. I turn and impaling one with my sword. Just before I am flung by a blast of the miracle Force, my blade stays in the corpse. My shield goes flying from the back of a cleric who as just a little too close to the blast. It hits a hollow directly in the head, killing it instantly.

My sword is too far to get it and fight the clerics so I continue following as soon as the one who had my shield gets back up. Secretly however I sneak a broken strait sword hilt.

We pass through a massive hall with two sets of large double doors, the hall is missing most of the roof. We continue until we reach a cell at the end of a hall. In a sealed of section to the left there is a massive demon of chaos caged in a relatively small room with no visible entrance save the small brake in the iron bars.

"Here you go a nice cell with a nice view of the sky." He said referencing the large rectangular hole in the roof and locked me in. The clerics turned and walked away laughing.

For several hours I attempt to escape through the hole in the ceiling with no success. It was simply too high for me to grab the edge of. So I turn my attention to the iron door. In the beating I received from the clerics I noticed that while I could feel pain but it was distant, of no consequence. I blacked out from shear blunt force trauma.

I strike the door, then again, then again. I hit it till the skin scraps of my knuckles. I continue punching it. The bones in my hand shatter, I use the force from moving my arms to continue whacking it.

"I must see her, at least one more time." I keep hitting the door till my body refuses to respond to any command I give. Eventually I gain the energy to crawl into the corner and sit myself up.

* * *

How long has it been, weeks? No my bones and flesh had mended themselves. Months? Years? Who knows, who cares, I won't ever get out of here.

As I think that a corpse falls in front of me. Looking up I see a man, dressed in the manner of elite knights of my homeland. He said nothing, only nodding at me before running off. I grab the key of the corpse and try the lock.

Two bonfires, a gigantic demon, and one dead hollow later I have recovered my weapons. I walk up a staircase when I notice the iron ball rolling towards me. I roll to the right and it breaks into a small room that was previously unenterable. When I investigate I find the young knight who rescued me from my cell on a pile of rubble. A hole in the roof betraying how he got there.

"Oh, you, you're no hollow eh."

"No, I'm not."

"Thank goodness. I'm done for I'm afraid. I'll die soon, then loss my sanity. I wish to ask something of you. You and I we're both undead, hear me out will you.

"Of course I will."

"Regrettably I have failed in my mission. But perhaps you can keep the torch lit. There is an old saying in my family. 'Thou who art undead art chosen. In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum maketh pilgrimage to the land of ancient lords. When thou ringth the Bell of Awakening the fate of the undead thou shalt know.' And now I can die with hope in my heart." He told me. As I turn to leave he speaks up again. "Oh and take this, an estus flask, an undead favorite." He holds the emerald flask filled with golden liquid to me. "Oh and this." He holds a key out to me and I take both. "Now I must bid farewell. I would hate to harm you after death, so go now, and thank you."

I leave and as I go up the stairs I hear him let out one final sigh. "Thank you, now I can get out of here. See after her health, I wouldn't blame her if she moved on however. But first I owe that knight his final request."

As the form of Gwen falls before me I look down at myself. My hardened leather armor traded out for the dragon skin and bone armor of Bishop Havel the Rock. My shield was that of Black Iron Tarkus of Berenike, except like my longsword it had been etched with titanite.

I turn to Solair of Astora. I place my longsword in one of his hands and tightly grip the other. "Here, take my blade. I won't need it anymore and with how much titanite is etched into it I would dare say it is superior to the sunlight strait sword. Keep it or find a worthy wielder I don't care. And I offer you your own sun, on one condition. In southwest Astora village of Ayrith there is a woman named Catrain. I wouldn't blame her if she has moved on. Make sure she is comfortable and happy." With that I crush the homeward bone I have placed within his palm in his fingers.

As he vanishes I turn and place my arm into the first flame. "Catrain, this one is for you. An age of light that should continue long after you die of old age."


End file.
